


Duets and Sunsets

by Freecure



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Boombox Week, M/M, boombox, shipping week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9678026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freecure/pseuds/Freecure
Summary: Hot summer days. Warm breezy evenings. Tank-tops and sweat. Seagulls and the sound of waves. White clouds. Amber eyes. Black nails and brown hair. Loud music. Metal. Tools. Grunts. Sighs. Kisses.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's Boombox Week! 
> 
> The first prompt is: The First Time!
> 
> There's not really any firsts in here. I changed my mind so many times and as Saturday rolled by I wrote something quickly. I think that's okay, though. I want to write their first date, but with what I have in mind, that'd be a 10k one-shot so.
> 
> Here's firsts!

The sun was warm on his back. The calls of seagulls irritated his ear drums, but the sound of the waves soothed them. The tiny, flathead screwdriver in his hand was slick with his sweat. He’d been at this for an hour or so, sitting on the top of a stone pillar fixing up one of his concussion mines.

The evening had come, and with it, a beautiful sunset.

Junkrat lifted his head and admired it from time to time. It was a nice orangish yellow with reds and purples mixed in. A real beauty, but the view was soured by the gnawing ache in his stomach and the weariness in his bones.

Another day, another mission, or so Junkrat had thought. The team had loaded up in the jet, took off to some place by the sea, and spread out into teams of two. They checked the perimeters, assigned lookouts, and prepared themselves for a surprise attack, but nothing happened. No Talon guys meant that Junkrat didn’t get to blow anything up. A real shame, considering all the old stones and rocks around the area. He could’ve hooked up a mine real nice on one of the pillars and watched it crumble on some poor bastard’s head.

It wasn’t a good day for him, but the sunset helped things a little.

“Hey!”

Junkrat stopped turning the last screw on his mine and lifted his head. No one on the team really _spoke_ to him, aside from Winston. Junkrat was friendly as he could be, extending hands for shakes and smiling big as a kind gesture, but it hadn’t done much. People were as nice as they had to be, only talking to him and Roadhog when they had to. Other than that, the conversations and invitations were nonexistent. It seemed like everyone at the Watchpoint were fine with pretending they weren’t even there.

Well… except for one person.

Junkrat leaned his head down and stared at the shiny, DJ man named Lúcio. His name was nice, but Junkrat could think of a better one. He always came up with good nicknames.

“Yeah?” Junkrat asked, twirling his screwdriver in his hand. He spotted ‘Hog sitting against another pillar nearby. His hands were folded on his stomach, a sure sign that he was asleep. Junkrat wondered _how_ the big guy could do that with the seagulls making so much noise.

Lúcio’s hands were on his hips and he was smiling up at him like they hadn’t wasted an entire day waiting for an attack that never came. “How’d you get up there?”

Junkrat grinned, golden tooth catching the light of the sunset and shining annoyingly in Lúcio’s face. “With one of these babies,” he answered, holding up the mine he was working on. “Can get anywhere with a well-placed mine, mate.”

Lúcio seemed to consider this, looking at the mine for a moment before meeting Junkrat’s eyes again. The bright smile that Junkrat was getting fond of turned into a challenging smirk. “I bet I could get up there.”

_That_ was hilarious. Junkrat snickered, trying to keep his laughs in and failing terribly. He didn’t want to piss Lúcio off, but the thought of him trying to climb the large pillar without any help painted a funny picture.

“Oh yeah?” Junkrat managed, giggles following his words. He set his mine to the side, invested in the conversation now. “I’d like to see ya try.”

Lúcio’s smirk turned devious. “Get ready to make some room up there!” He called.

Junkrat stayed where he was and crossed his legs at the ankles. There was no way Lúcio could get up onto the pillar without something to propel him.

Lúcio made a gesture with his hand and the lights on his skates changed from yellow to green. Junkrat leaned over a bit, getting dangerously close to falling but miraculously keeping balance. What was that about? He knew Lúcio was a medic, but was there more that he could do?

Before Junkrat could ask, Lúcio took off toward the pillar, moving faster than Junkrat had ever seen. What the hell? Since _when_ could he do that? Lúcio had mentioned something about music and light when they’d first talked to each other, but Junkrat had been too lost in his eyes to really focus on what he was saying.

Well, whatever. He could move fast, but he’d need more than that to climb to the top. Junkrat got comfortable again, tapping his peg leg against the pillar but a flash of green and blue caught his eye. He turned his head, sitting back a bit to look behind himself. He saw it again, a quick flash of color that had moved closer to Junkrat’s position. He could hear fast paced music and the sound of skates hitting stone.

Was Lúcio… _hopping_ up the pillar?

“Oi!” Junkrat called, turning his head when he saw another flash. Lúcio was there one second, gone the next. Junkrat growled, clenching his jaw. “What the fuck--Where are you?!”

The loud clatter of skates behind him answered his question.

Junkrat turned around quickly, amber eyes wide in surprise. There was Lúcio, standing shakily near the edge of the pillar. He seemed a big winded from all the hopping and skating he was doing, but the look on his face was still smug.

“I told you to make room, dude,” Lúcio said, gesturing to the small spot Junkrat had left open. His mine and tools were taking up even more room. “I can barely stand on here. You want me to fall off?”

Junkrat grumbled and began collecting his things, pooling them in his lap to make room for Lúcio. “Wouldn’t ya just hop your way back up?” He asked.

Lúcio smiled at him, lowering himself down and taking a seat next to Junkrat on the pillar. “Yeah, I would,” he answered. He nudged Junkrat with his elbow and gestured to his shirt. “My symbol is a _frog_ , after all.”

Junkrat squinted and stared at the graphic, ears picking up the faint sound of Lúcio’s music. Junkrat recalled frogs from his childhood. He’d found a green one in his home once, bright green with large eyes. It was slick to the touch and made a high-pitched noise when he picked it up. He kept it a secret from his mother for as long as she could, but she soon noticed him hiding the frog in his shirt and hair.

“Junkrat?” Lúcio waved his hand in front of his face. “You okay, man? Too hot?”

Junkrat quickly moved out of Lúcio’s personal space. He fiddled with the screwdriver in his hand, biting his lip as he thought. “Nah. ’S cold compared to what I’m used to.”

Lúcio grinned. “Same here! But I know it gets much hotter in Australia. Over thirty-seven degrees Celsius down there.”

Junkrat didn’t mention how that was the everyday temperature, how if people didn’t die from scrap guns and territory bouts, the dehydration took them. But that did give him an idea…

Suddenly, Junkrat tapped his screwdriver against his peg leg, making a distinct clanging noise. “Heatfrog! That’s a good name for ya!” He turned to look at Lúcio with a widespread grin. “‘S good, right? Perfect with all that hoppin’ you do.”

Lúcio stared at him, confused. Junkrat tried to keep eye contact instead of letting his eyes take in the details of Lúcio’s face. “A good name? You mean, like a nickname?”

“Yeah,” Junkrat shrugged, sitting back on his hands and letting his feet dangle over the edge. “Ya been good to me and Roadie down there. Figured ya needed a good Junker name to go with ours.”

Lúcio blinked a few times, looking at him and then down at Roadhog below. “Wow,” he said finally, laughing a bit between his words. It was a charming laugh, deep and airy. Junkrat liked it. “Thanks. It… it’s good! I like it.”

It was easy to tell that Lúcio was just being nice, and Junkrat appreciated that. He nudged Lúcio back and smirked at him. “It’ll grow on ya,” he promised. “Now, you gotta explain a few things to me,” he said, tapping on Lúcio’s suit with his screwdriver. “What’s all that color changin’ about? What’s that thing on yer back and—” Junkrat touched one of Lúcio’s dreads with his flesh hand and pointed to the metal yellow part hanging on the end of it. “What the hell is _this_?”

Lúcio gingerly took his dread back from Junkrat and tried to speak through his laughter. “I’m not sure if I’ll have time to answer _all_ of those questions,” he said.

Junkrat stared at him for a moment, tapping his fingers on Lúcio’s suit. He turned and looked at the group down below them. Most of them were sitting in the shade of trees or against rocks looking toward the horizon. It was only Winston and Angel Cakes that seemed to be talking business.

It had changed from a mission to a day of relaxation.

“Look at ‘em down there,” Junkrat said, pointing to McCree who had tipped his hat forward and fallen asleep. “Half of ‘em are passed out. We ain’t goin’ anywhere for another hour.” Junkrat turned again to Lúcio, noticing how his eyes seemed to shine with the light from the setting sun.

Junkrat tapped Lúcio’s suit again as a sign for him to start talking, inching closer despite the warning in his mind to give Lúcio his space. He wanted answers, but more than that he wanted to hear Lúcio’s voice.

Lúcio rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. He pointed behind Junkrat to his mine. “But only if you teach me how to make one of those.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second Prompt: Music!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is so important to me. I know not everyone has played an instrument before, but music has been a part of my life since I've been born. It's so beautiful and wonderful. I'm glad I got to write something about it with my favorite ship.

“Wanna write a song together?”

Junkrat leaned against the doorway to Lúcio’s room, hands crossed across his chest, eyebrows furrowed together. Didn’t writing a song require experience when it came to music? Junkrat didn’t know much about how Lúcio made his songs, only that he would spend hours in his room and emerge with a completed piece.

Junkrat had never _touched_ an instrument; how did Lúcio expect them to collaborate?

“Don’t know how to play anythin’,” he said in reply, shrugging his shoulders. “Can make some explosions, though. Wanna use those?”

“Maybe for our second track,” Lúcio said, hands on his hips. He looked adorable in his tank top, shorts and yellow flip-flops. If Junkrat hadn’t been feeling so unsure, he would’ve walked further into the room and kissed him. “I thought you could pick an instrument and play around with it.”

Junkrat narrowed his eyes. That plan didn’t sound very efficient. He didn’t know which notes sounded good and which ones didn’t. Which keys to pluck or strings to play to make an actual song. They _both_ knew his forté was chemicals, invention, and engineering.

_Music,_ he left to his artistic boyfriend.

“Dunno, sunshine. Won’t really _sound_ good if I just play around,” Junkrat said, standing up straight and digging his toe into Lúcio’s soft, beige carpet.

“Jamie,” Lúcio said, the love and care in his voice causing Junkrat to lift his head and meet his eyes. “Don’t overthink it. Just pick an instrument and play around with it—” Lúcio gestured around his room to the various devices and equipment he had. “—then _I’ll_ work my magic.”

It was hard to say no when Lúcio got that look in his eyes. Determined, energetic and with a spark of inspiration. He was in one of his moods and instead of working on something on his own, he’d chosen to include Junkrat in his music making.

“Fine,” Junkrat said, stepping into the room with his head bowed. “But it won’t sound good.”

“You’re underestimating yourself,” Lúcio told him, leaning against his desk as Junkrat looked around.

“Yeah, well yer… _over_ estimatin’ me,” Junkrat replied, looking at the keyboard that was propped up against the wall. There was something about the black and white of the keys that was grabbing his attention. It reminded him of the days when he would lay down in Lúcio’s bed, breathe in the smell of coconut oil and citrus and watch him play the keyboard with gentle fingers.

Lúcio always made it look so easy. Junkrat knew that if he touched the instrument, the only thing he’d be able to produce would sound displeasing to the ear. He’d cover the keys with filth and grime and probably break it somehow. He didn’t want to touch something that was so important to Lúcio.

He didn’t want to break or mess with _anything._ Which meant Junkrat stood in the middle of the room, nervous and stiff. Lúcio may have wanted to make something with him, but maybe it was best if they both stayed in their own areas of expertise.

Lúcio came up beside him and bumped his hip. “Can’t decide what to pick?” He asked, cheerful and oblivious to Junkrat’s inner turmoil. “What looks interesting to you? You can try all of them. I don’t mind.”

“Don’t wanna break anythin’,” Junkrat muttered lowly, fiddling with the insides of his pockets. He could already picture the look of horror on Lúcio’s face at seeing one of his precious instruments broken.

A hand on his back made him jump in surprise, amber eyes wide as they looked down at Lúcio. His expression was saddened, disheartened, and Junkrat regretted opening up his stupid mouth in the first place.

“You won’t break anything, Jamie. Even if you do, I can replace it,” Lúcio said reassuringly. He removed his hand and offered a small smile. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You can say no.”

It wasn’t that Junkrat didn’t _want_ to, it was that his confidence was lacking. He was afraid of doing something wrong or not living up to Lúcio’s expectations. But… making music together was something important to Lúcio. Junkrat understood that. That was all that mattered.

“I want to,” Junkrat said, bumping Lúcio’s hip back to show that he wasn’t upset.

Lúcio’s face instantly lit up and his smile was as bright as the sun itself. “Cool! So, you want to try the keyboard first or something else?”

The keyboard was definitely an option, but Junkrat decided he’d look around the room more first. Next to the keyboard was a large pair of drums. The tops of them were a very light color, off white, but the bodies were a slick tan. Junkrat assumed that most drums were played with sticks, but he didn’t see any near the drum.

“Congas,” Lúcio said from beside him. He moved forward to stand near the drums and patted one with the palm of his hand. The single note it emitted was steady and strong. “They’re fun to play, but they can hurt your hands after a while. I have a set of bongos around here, too.”

Junkrat had no idea what bongos were but the name sounded like drongo, which made him giggle. Lúcio wasn’t paying much attention to him anymore, moving his technical equipment around to look for the missing bongos. While he did that, Junkrat returned to looking at the other instruments.

Beside the window was an acoustic guitar, light tan and brown. Junkrat knew what a guitar was, but the ones he’d seen were painted differently in all kinds of colors. They sounded like lightning, quick, flashy and electric. The one by the window seemed okay, but Junkrat wasn’t sure about the size. Maybe if it was smaller.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he noticed something tucked away beside Lúcio’s bright green bean bag chair. It looked just like the guitar but smaller and with a floral pattern etched into the wood. Junkrat walked over and picked it up with his right hand, holding it in front of his face and following the pattern with his eyes.

“You like that ukulele?”

Junkrat nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned to Lúcio with a glare. “You gotta stop spookin’ me, love.”

Lúcio shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t help it if you keep getting so lost in your own thoughts.”

Junkrat didn’t reply to that because Lúcio was right. Instead, he turned toward the ukulele (what kinda name was that?) and held it gently in both hands. With his left, he held the neck of it, fingers placed on the strings. With his right, he moved his fingers onto the strings covering the hole. He wasn’t sure if he was doing it right, but it _felt_ okay.

His metal thumb plucked at a string, and a pure sound followed. Junkrat did it again, faster, plucking twice in a row. Both times were as bright and true as the last. He shifted the ukulele in his hands, wanting to use his other fingers to pluck more strings.  His thumb would pluck one and his index finger would pluck another. Two notes one after the other.

That sounded disjointed. How did people make music with it? How did they play songs and create something so impactful? Junkrat wasn’t sure, but if he kept plucking, would the answer come to him?

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lúcio moving about near his desk. He assumed that he was still looking for those bongos, but he’d put on a pair of headphones and taken a seat at his desk. He pressed holographic keys and nodded his head to music that only he could hear.

Junkrat continued strumming, feeling a little lost.

“So… do I need to do anythin’ special?” Junkrat asked, continuing to play as he walked about the room. He debated sitting in the bean bag chair, but recalled the _last_ time he’d done that. It’d taken both ‘Hog and Lúcio to help get him out.

“No,” Lúcio answered, swiveling his chair around to look at him. “Just keep doing that. Do whatever you want, Jamie. This is your part of the song.”

Junrkat stood in the middle of the room and just stared at Lúcio for a moment, confused as to what to do. He strummed all four strings with his index finger, one right after the other. That sounded nicer, together, a part of something instead of four individual notes. Junkrat kept doing that, tapping his left foot and feeling a little strange. How was Lúcio going to make a song with him playing the same four notes over and over? Wouldn’t that be boring?

Lúcio didn’t seem to think so. Every so often he’d turn to Junkrat and smile before turning back to his desk. He kept peeking at Junkrat out of the corner of his eye, too. It made him feel paranoid, like he was playing the ukulele wrong. But it sounded alright, so Junkrat was just going to play it by ear.

He moved over to Lúcio’s bed and sat on the edge of it. He crossed his feet at the ankles and plucked the strings individually before strumming them all together again. The same four notes sounded nice, but how did he make different ones? Couldn’t he go higher, lower? How did that happen?

Junkrat started to move his left hand since he hadn’t been doing that. He held his fingers against the strings on the neck of the ukulele and started to pluck at the same time. Whenever he moved his fingers, the sound would change, going slightly higher or lower depending on the placement. Interesting.

As he continued to experiment and learn the ukulele through trial and error, Lúcio was glued to his computer, eyes focused and tongue peeking out through his lips. Junkrat would stare at him whenever he got too tired of looking at strings. Was he working on his part of the song? Or was he waiting for Junkrat to come up with something more… complete?

Junkrat turned and laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as he continued to play the ukulele. He started to memorize the notes he liked and the proper positioning he needed to play them. In no time at all, he strung his favorite notes together and created a melody, simple but pleasing to hear. Junkrat played it over and over again, wanting to commit it to memory.

“Jamie, that sounds _great._ ”

Junkrat blinked, turned to look at Lúcio who had swiveled his chair around to look at him again. He was so focused on what he was doing, he’d nearly forgotten Lúcio was there. He sat up quickly, a blush on his cheeks. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah!” Lúcio said, smiling at him in that affectionate way that made Junkrat’s heart do flips. “You just taught yourself how to play the ukulele, and you wrote something on your own.”

“Oh,” Junkrat said dumbly, plucking a few strings just to keep his hands moving. He supposed he had taught himself, but that wasn’t a new thing to him. He was used to teaching himself, figuring things out and learning through making mistakes and trying again. “I guess I did.”

Lúcio grinned at him, brown eyes bright and kind. “I recorded all of that, just so you know.”

Junkrat’s playing came to an abrupt stop. “You what? Half of that was _shite_ , love. Don’t put that in there.”

“None of it was shite,” Lúcio said, chuckling at his own use of the word. “It was all great and I’m going to use _all_ of it. I already finished the first part of the song. Hold on, I’ll play it.”

Junkrat wanted to groan. His terrible playing couldn’t make for a great song, but Lúcio was a professional and none of his music was shite. Maybe he _could_ turn Junkrat’s awkward ukulele playing into something better.

Lúcio unplugged his headphones and hooked up his speakers. While they powered on, he grabbed his glove off of his desk and slipped it on his left hand. With a quick sweep of his hand, the music began to play, and Junkrat was instantly amazed with what he heard.

He could hear the sound of his disjointed notes in there, but Lúcio had added electronic backtracks and a deep bassline to bring it together. His melody wasn’t overshadowed, only enhanced, a part of something greater.

Lúcio walked over to sit next to him on the bed, right hand reaching for Junkrat’s. Their fingers intertwined instantly, Junkrat rubbing his thumb against the back of Lúcio’s hand. He was perplexed as to how Lúcio had done so much in such a short amount of time. It sounded _wonderful_ and it’d only been an hour or so.

“Sunshine, this is amazin’,” Junkrat said quietly, closing his eyes and squeezing Lúcio’s hand when he felt him lean against his arm.

“You think this is amazing? Wait till you see this,” Lúcio told him. He lifted his left hand and made another gesture, quick and practiced. As the music continued to play, light emitted from the speakers spread across the room. It was light orange and wispy, streaking through the air and circling them.

The music combined with the light made him feel… warm. Enthusiastic. Bursting with energy yet content as can be. Loving, hopeful, at peace. Calm and lively. Excited and tranquil. It was the two of them combined, how Lúcio made him feel and… how he imagined he made Lúcio feel.

Connected through yellow and red, orange was a perfect color for their song.

“Think this is my new favorite song of yours, sunshine,” Junkrat said, his stomach full of butterflies and his head pleasantly fuzzy.

Lúcio snuggled into his side and laughed. “Don’t get too attached. This is only our first collab of many.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to write Junkrat learning through trial and error and I wanted a ukulele in there, too. I think when someone shares something they're passionate about with you, it takes real courage and it shows how much they appreciate you and care about you.
> 
> I wanted to write that moment because I think it'd be really important not only for Lúcio, but for Junkrat as well. He gets to see Lúcio work that magic to create something that perfectly captures both of them and their relationship together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still V-day where I am so I just barely made it.
> 
> Tomorrow, I'm going to be super late, though. Like I really don't know if I'll be able to do the rest of the week on time, haha.

The cookies hadn’t turned out that well.

They were crispy, nearly burnt and the shapes that Junkrat had meticulously crafted had warped into odd looking balls and squares. He had spent the entire afternoon slaving over the oven, hogging the kitchen and telling anyone who entered to piss off, and _this_ was what he had to show for it. Horrible looking cookies and a mess of a kitchen.

Junkrat wasn’t too keen on the idea of Valentine’s day. It was too mushy and cutesy. But this year, there was someone who was important to him and he wanted to show Lúcio how much he cared about him. He knew he should’ve done a fireworks display. Fuck him for trying to do something different.

“Are you finally done?”

Junkrat turned his head slowly, blinking at Hana who was standing in the doorway wearing a large hoodie and shorts. She stepped further inside, stepping over a broken egg and chocolate chips scattered on the floor. “It’s a mess in here, Junk. The cookies had better be worth it.”

“They ain’t,” he answered for her, stepping aside so she could look at them. “Look like shit, probably taste like it, too.”

Hana snickered, picking up a cookie and inspecting it. “True, they don’t look good, but Lúcio won’t care as long as they’re from you.”

Junkrat snorted and crossed his arms. “Deserves better than burnt cookies, bugs. We both know that.”

Hana stood on her tiptoes and reached for the package of plastic wrap on top of the refrigerator. “I think he’d be more surprised if the cookies _weren’t_ burnt,” she said, cutting off a good portion of wrap and placing the cookies on top of it. “Seriously, calm down. He’ll love these.”

Junkrat already knew that he wouldn’t. He knew that Lúcio would be sweet about it, take the cookies and smile and then throw them away later. Probably complain to Hana about how he would’ve liked an actual gift instead of burnt trash.

He shifted on his feet, feeling inadequate, lesser, idiotic and foolish. He should’ve just stuck with what he was good at, but he wanted to give Lúcio something unique. All the shows on television boasted and bragged about how homemade sweets were the way to go on Valentine’s Day. Those fucks had _lied._ They’d led Junkrat astray and now his boyfriend was going to hate him.

“Junk?”

He looked up at Hana. She’d wrapped up the cookies for him and secured the package with a pink twist tie. It looked simplistic, but cute. The burnt look of the cookies ruined it though. Junkrat felt a knot in his stomach, already dreading having to give Lúcio his terrible gift.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hana said, lifting his hand and placing the bag of cookies in his palm. “Just go give this to him and spend the day together. That’s what Lúcio likes the most, anyway.”

Junkrat looked at the bag in his hand, feeling queasy. “Hope you’re right.”

* * *

 

Junkrat stood outside the door to Lúcio’s room frozen stiff. He held the bag of cookies loosely in his right hand, his heart beating a mile a minute. He was readying himself for the look of disappointment on Lúcio’s face, the flash of discontent that would tear his heart apart. It was imminent, unavoidable. He may as well get it over with.

He knocked instead of entering the code he knew by heart. He took a step back and tried to calm himself, focused on taking steady breaths and holding the bag of cookies despite his want to drop them and take off down the hallway.

“Just a sec!” Lúcio called from inside. There was noise on the other side, something falling on the floor and Lúcio cursing in Portuguese. Before Junkrat could ponder what that noise was, his boyfriend opened the door with a bright, energetic smile. “Jamie! I was wondering when you’d come by. Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Junkrat wasn’t even going to try to match Lúcio’s upbeat attitude. “Yeah, right back at ya,” he said softly, already starting to feel terrible. “Can I—?”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry,” Lúcio said, moving back and letting Junkrat step through the doorway. “Sorry about the mess. I got a lot of mail today.”

Junkrat took one look around the room and his heart plummeted. There were Valentine’s gifts everywhere. Large stuffed animals decorated with hearts and sweet sayings, a large stack of chocolates and sweets on Lúcio’s desk, other assorted gifts in a pile near the window. There were letters, too. Piles and piles of letters scattered about the room.

All of this was from his fans.

All Junkrat had done was bake him burnt cookies.

“I left the bed clean so we’d have a place to sit,” Lúcio said, motioning for Junkrat to take a seat. When Junkrat just stood there, amber eyes staring at the chocolate and candies on Lúcio’s desk, Lúcio touched his arm. “Jamie? You okay?”

No, he wasn’t okay. Compared to the massive amounts of gifts he’d gotten from his _fans_ , people who Lúcio didn’t even know personally, what did a small batch of disgusting cookies matter? Junkrat was a terrible boyfriend. _Strangers_ could do better than him.

“Hey…” Lúcio took his left hand, but Junkrat didn’t return the grip. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Junkrat couldn’t talk, he couldn’t move. Why hadn’t he planned something more extravagant? More meaningful? Cookies weren’t enough, especially burnt ones. Lúcio deserved more, deserved _better_.

“Jamie?” Lúcio called him again, squeezing his hand and trying to snap him out of his funk. He tried to take his other hand but noticed the bag Junkrat was holding. “Wait, is that… for me?”

And just like that, Junkrat was pulled back to the present. He needed to leave. He needed to get out, away from the mountains of gifts and adoration. He snatched his hand out of Lúcio’s grip, his heart nearly breaking into pieces at the hurt look he received in return. “No, these are—” Junkrat tried to come up with a quick lie, think of some excuse that would dissuade Lúcio from following him. “Uh, actually, ‘m not feelin’ too good all of a sudden,” he lied, taking slow steps out of the room. “Stomach’s in a tizzy.” That wasn’t a _complete_ lie.

“You’re sick?” Lúcio asked, concerned. “Then you should stay! No better place for you to be then with a medic. I can take care of you.”

“Nah, I can take care of myself just fine,” Junkrat said quickly, his voice cracking as he tried to hold in his feelings of failure and inadequacy. “I’ll… see ya later, yeah?” Junkrat turned on his heel and rushed out of the room, not even waiting for a response. He hobbled down the hallway, nearly crushing the cookies in his hand.

The thought that’d been plaguing him since he and Lúcio had first gotten together, the words that kept repeating themselves in his mind like a mantra had come true.

He wasn’t good enough.

* * *

 

He hadn’t been in his own room in weeks.

All of his stuff he’d moved in Lúcio’s room, his clothes, tools, important belongings. Everything was there and his room looked empty in comparison. It felt uncomfortable, cold, and barren. It was unlived in, and it showed how close he and Lúcio were.

Junkrat sighed and tossed the bag of cookies on his desk. He wanted to hide in his room and spend the stupid holiday alone. Valentine ’s Day hadn’t meant jack shit to him before, but once he got a boyfriend, it was one of the most important days of the year. Didn’t make a lick of sense to him. Why dedicate a single day to expressing feelings? Weren’t you supposed to do that shit every day?

Irritated, ashamed and tired, Junkrat kicked off his boot and made his way over to his bed. Before he pulled back the covers and climbed in, he noticed a package sitting on his pillow. Holy shit, how had he not noticed that before? He’d been too angry at himself to pay attention to his surroundings.

The package was a box wrapped in red paper with a white bow on top. There was a card attached to the bow and Junkrat pulled it off to read it. ‘From Lúcio.’

Oh. Right. He’d completely forgotten that he was supposed to _receive_ a gift for Valentine ’s Day. He almost didn’t want to open it. Already, Lúcio’s present was better than his. The box was pretty looking. There was a lot more in it than cookies. It was probably a thoughtful gift, something Junkrat needed. Lúcio always gave great gifts like that.

Junkrat wanted to put it off, open the box tomorrow or the next day. If he did that, he’d constnatly be thinking about it, wondering what was inside. It’d drive him crazy. Better to do it and get it over with.

With gentle hands, he removed the bow and the lid of the box. The first thing he saw was bomb casings, painted with red and pink instead of his usual colors. There were hearts on them, too. Kissy faces and sweet sayings. There were others painted with Lúcio’s symbol instead of his own and then some with gradient patterns in all different colors.

Junkrat sat on the bed and examined each one, pulling them out of the box and setting them in his lap. Twenty-four in total and Junkrat didn’t want to use any of them. The casings were too pretty and important to be used to blow up a building. They needed to be displayed somewhere. Out of all of them, the ones with Lúcio’s symbol on them were his favorite.

Underneath the casings was a new pair of camouflage shorts. Two new pairs. _Three_ actually, all in different colors. Red, green and blue. Junkrat snickered, holding them all up and looking at the colors in the light. He needed new shorts with how often he set his own clothing on fire. A little variety in the color department never hurt, either.

The last thing in the box was a framed photograph, a picture of him and Lúcio together. Hana must’ve taken it, because neither of them seemed aware that their picture was being taken. They were laughing about something, Junkrat’s arm wrapped around Lúcio’s shoulders.

There was something about the picture that stirred something in him. The cheerful expression on Lúcio’s face, his bright smile and beautiful eyes. He looked happy. They _both_ did. In the few months they’d been together, Junkrat had felt things he didn’t even know he _could_ feel. Instead of his mind being filled with thoughts of fire and smoke, it was just Lúcio, his face, his smile, and his laugh. He couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Junkrat looked over the gifts his boyfriend had gotten him, as thoughtful as always. He looked over to the bag of cookies he’d made, an experiment that’d gone wrong. Maybe it was too late for him to buy something or even remake the cookies, but they could still spend the rest of the day together.

Junkrat would do that much and then… he’d make it up to Lúcio, somehow. He’d buy him all the chocolate he could eat, all the teddy bears in the world, if he had to. He’d make the piles of gifts in his room look insignificant in comparison.

But first, he needed to apologize for running off like that. The hurt expression on Lúcio’s face was troubling. Junkrat didn’t want him to think it was his fault.

He placed all of his gifts back in the box and resealed it. He stood from the bed and put his boot on and retrieved the burnt cookies from his desk. As he made his way to the door, he heard a faint knock. He paused for a moment, wondering who it could be. Roadhog didn’t knock; he pounded on the door and Hana didn’t like his room because of the smell, so that left…

Junkrat pressed a button on the holo-panel and the door slid open to reveal Lúcio on the other side. He was holding something in his hands, but Junkrat was too focused on the nervous look on Lúcio’s face to pay attention to that.

“Hey…” he said quietly, managing a small smile, lacking compared to the bright one he’d given Junkrat just minutes before. “I brought you some music. It should help with your stomach.” He held out his hand and offered Junkrat his compact music player and headphones. “I brought you some chamomile tea. I know it’s not your favorite, but it’s supposed to help—”

“Sunshine,” Junkrat interrupted, his heart aching in his chest. “Thanks, but… ‘m not sick.”

Lúcio stared at him, wide-eyed and confused. He slowly lowered his hands and raised an eyebrow. “You’re… not?”

Junkrat shook his head.

“So…” Lúcio said slowly, eyebrows beginning to furrow together. “You lied.”

Junkrat grew nervous all of a sudden, feeling even more ashamed of himself than before. “Yeah, ‘m sorry. I just…” With a sigh of defeat he held up the burnt cookies that he’d made. “I cooked these for you as a gift and when I saw all that other stuff you got, I felt…”

Lúcio eyed the burnt cookies for a moment before looking at Junkrat again. “I get it.”

Junkrat fidgeted slightly, unsure of what to say now. His stomach felt terrible. He’d probably need the tea that Lúcio had brought him.

Placing his music player in his pocket, Lúcio reached up to take the bag of cookies from Junkrat’ He untied the string and pulled one of the package, bringing it to his lips to taste. Junkrat felt even worse now. What if they made Lúcio sick?

To his surprise, Lúcio only hummed thoughtfully, savoring the taste and swallowing. He reached into the bag and pulled out another cookie to eat. “I don’t know what you were nervous about. These taste great!”

Junkrat was stunned, shocked and utterly confused, baffled and puzzled. His _burnt_ cookies were great? “You can be honest—”

“I _am_ ,” Lúcio told him, glaring slightly as he chewed on another cookie. “They taste good. They’re a little crispy at the bottom, but they aren’t ruined, Jamie. Did you even try one yourself?”

Junkrat blinked, looking at the bag of cookies. He _hadn’t_ tried one. Holy shit, why hadn’t he? Hana had distracted him with all her words and complaining about the mess in the kitchen, and by the time they’d stopped talking, they were already wrapped up nicely. “No,” Junkrat said, shifting on his feet.

Lúcio held out a cookie for him to try and Junkrat popped it into his mouth. The bottom was very crispy, but the flavors were still there. It wasn’t the best cookie, but it wasn’t as terrible as he’d thought it be, either.

“‘S okay,” he said, feeling like a total idiot for making such a big deal out of the cookies. Still, he wanted to give his boyfriend a better gift, something that he deserved. “But ‘m gonna get ya somethin’ else, too. Somethin’ you’ll really like.”

Surprisingly, Lúcio laughed. He stopped eating his cookies for the moment and tied them back up. “Y’know what I’d _really_ like, Jamie?”

Lúcio was going to help him out and tell him _exactly_ what he wanted! Junkrat grinned. “What? You name it, I’ll get it.”

Gently, Lúcio reached forward and took Junkrat’s right hand in his own. “I’d like to spend the rest of the day together, just you and me.”

That… hadn’t been the answer Junkrat had been expecting. He’d thought Lúcio would ask for some new loud speakers or some kind of expensive equipment. Spending the day together? That’s all he wanted? “You sure?” Junkrat asked.

“Mmhm,” Lúcio nodded, rubbing his thumb against the back of Junkrat’s hand. “That’s all I want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so proud of myself but I'm also so tired. Today was a really rough day for me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Role reversal!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was difficult for me. I know it should've been obvious what to do, but I didn't really want to do that. Thankfully, this [lovely piece of art](http://branbrandio.tumblr.com/post/157280254102/switch-okay-but-what-if-lucio-was-the-big-and) inspired me.

“Gimmie a kiss.”

Lúcio looked down at Junkrat, took in his irritated expression and defensive posture and smiled. “Say please.”

Junkrat scrunched up his nose and glared, amber eyes shining in the morning light. He needed to get going in order to make his flight, but it was fun to tease Junkrat sometimes. He always threw a fit.

“Since when do I have ta say please for a kiss?” Junkrat asked, crossing his arms. “Yer my boyfriend; you should _want_ to kiss me.”

“I do,” Lúcio replied easily, lifting his hand and running it through Junkrat’s unruly hair. They’d just taken a bath together last night and it was already filthy. Junkrat leaned into the touch, closing his eyes briefly and appearing content and serene before he realized what he was doing and frowned at Lúcio again.

“Then kiss me,” Junkrat said, poking Lúcio in the chest with his right index finger. “Yer gonna be gone for who _knows_ how long—”

“Two weeks,” Lúcio interjected.

“—and you should be coverin’ me in kisses ‘cause we won’t be seein’ each other!” Junkrat finished, thick eyebrows knit together.

Junkrat always got upset and angry whenever Lúcio had to leave. Whether it was for a concerts, meetings or promotion, he didn’t like to be apart. Lúcio didn’t like it either, but it came with the job. They texted regularly and Lúcio would call when he had time, but it was nothing compared to sleeping in each other’s arms.

Lúcio rubbed Junkrat’s cheek with his thumb, the mood changing from lighthearted teasing to something somber. Junkrat glared at him for a moment before he seemed to notice the change of mood as well. He turned his head and leaned into Lúcio’s palm, kissing it gently.

He only had a few minutes left before he _really_ needed to leave so he could make his flight, but Junkrat wanted to be covered in kisses, and even though he hadn’t said please, Lúcio supposed he could fulfill that request. He moved his hand from Junkrat’s face and bent down, wrapping his arms around Junkrat’s waist and picking him up.

Immediately, Junkrat wrapped his arms around Lúcio’s neck and his legs around his waist. He was clinging to him, hugging him tight with no intention of letting go. Lúcio was _definitely_ going to be late, but the way Junkrat nuzzled his neck and kissed his skin made up for it.

Lúcio ran his hands along Junkrat’s back, hugging him close and kissing the right side of his jaw. Another kiss was placed higher up on his cheek and then another near his temple.

Junkrat started giggling and he squirmed in Lúcio’s arms, fingers fiddling with his long dreads. That only spurred Lúcio on more, kissing Junkrat’s nose, forehead and ear. His skin was turning red and he was quite clearly embarrassed since he still hadn’t moved his face from Lúcio’s neck.

That, and he wanted to hold on for as long as he could.

The sound of a car horn behind them interrupted the sweet moment. Lúcio turned his head and noticed his manager making a quick motion with her hand. Time had run out. He needed to go.

Lúcio kissed his boyfriend on the cheek gently, tenderly. “Jamie…”

“I know,” Junkrat said, giving Lúcio a quick love bite before pulling away. He didn’t meet Lúcio’s eyes immediately, but he didn’t need to. Lúcio already knew what he’d see in those beautiful eyes. “Be careful, yeah?”

Lúcio leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “I will,” he said, feeling Junkrat’s tight grip on him slip slightly. “You be careful, too. Don’t be reckless.”

Junkrat snorted and finally looked up to meet Lúcio’s eyes. “Y’know I can’t help that, love.”

Lúcio grinned, touching the tip of his nose to Junkrat’s before leaning down to connect their lips. It was bittersweet, filled with longing and resignation. The look on Junkrat’s face was heartbreaking and Lúcio knew that his expression wasn’t much better.

The sooner he left, the sooner he would be back. That’s what he kept telling himself.

“I love you,” Lúcio whispered against chapped lips. A secret shared between the two of them. Sweet, meaningful words that means the world to both of them.

Junkrat leaned forward and kissed him again, quick and chaste. “Love you, too.”

Lúcio set him down gently, running his hand through Junkrat’s hair one last time. He turned and opened the backdoor to the car, getting inside and telling his manager he was ready to leave.

He looked out the window and watched as the sunlight streamed in. As Junkrat grew smaller and smaller in the distance, Lúcio found himself wishing he’d given him more kisses.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've wanted to write a Junkrat is sick prompt for a while. Sorry this is so short. I had an eventful day today.

He was sick with a cold.

Lúcio had no idea how it had happened. He hadn’t been at the watchpoint. He’d just returned from a concert in Italy when Dr. Ziegler pulled him aside and brought him up to speed. Junkrat had been in his room for days, eating little and hardly taking any medicine. When she suggested treatment through her nanobots, Junkrat had refused.

That didn’t surprise Lúcio. Junkrat had told him time and time again he didn’t ‘bots’ inside his body. As medics, he and Dr. Ziegler had to comply with what their patients wanted. If he’d taken the treatment, he would’ve been fine in a few hours, but instead, he was bundled up under the covers, coughing every few minutes and sniffling like crazy.

Lúcio had brought him a bowl of soup, some water and orange juice, and his music. It’d probably take two days for the virus to leave Junkrat’s body. A long time compared to Dr. Ziegler’s treatment.

Lúcio turned on his portable speakers and began to play a remix of Rejuvenescência. It was stronger than the original, something he’d been testing out in his free time. It wasn’t ready to be used on a serious mission, but Lúcio was confident it could help heal Junkrat’s cold in half the time of his original song.

He increased the volume and the lump under the blanket started to move. Lúcio sat himself down on the edge of the bed and touched Junkrat’s shoulder, or what he _thought_ was his shoulder. It was hard to tell. “Jamie,” he called gently, tugging on the blanket a bit. “I’m back and I brought you some soup.”

Junkrat groaned and shifted under the covers, sneezing and covering himself with his own mucus. Lúcio grimaced; the sooner he got some food into him and cleaned him up a little, the better.

Soon enough, an unruly mop of blonde hair peeked out from under the blanket. Junkrat’s eyes were bloodshot, his nose red with irritation and his skin paler than usual. He wasn’t in good shape. It was obvious he hadn’t been eating much. He was likely dehydrated as well.

Lúcio scooted closer and ran his hands through Junkrat’s hair. “Hey,” he greeted softly.

Junkrat sniffled in reply, laying his head down on his pillow and groaning. “‘S about time you came back…” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Lúcio pushed back Junkrat’s hair and felt his forehead. Hot. Feverish. Sweaty. “Jamie, you should’ve taken Dr. Ziegler’s treatment. You would’ve been better by now.”

Junkrat glared at him, or _tried_ to, at least. He turned his head and coughed into his pillow, clearing his throat afterwards. He mumbled something that Lúcio didn’t quite catch and he leaned closer to hear. “What did you say?”

Junkrat growled, annoyed. “I said, she ain’t _my_ medic,” he repeated, cheeks flushed and nose runny.

Lúcio didn’t think it was possible for his heart to pound, leap _and melt_ at the same time. He pulled back, staring at Junkrat with wide eyes. He still thought it was silly for Junkrat to take Dr. Ziegler’s help, but he was flattered at the same time. His ears and face felt hot from embarrassment and Lúcio turned his attention to something else.

He reached over and grabbed the soup that he sat on the nightstand, stirring it with the spoon he’d brought. Rejuvenescência continued to play in the background, continually healing Junkrat as time passed. “You should start to feel better soon,” Lúcio said, heart still pounding in his chest. “You’ll eat this soup, drink some water, wash up, and then we’ll take a nap together, okay?”

Junkrat moved his left foot and nudged Lúcio’s thigh, wanting his attention, wanting eye contact. Lúcio slowly gave it to him, still feeling a bit flustered. “Don’t want ya to… stay in here longer than ya have to,” Junkrat said slowly. “You’ll get sick… too.”

That concern was touching. Lúcio let go of the spoon and reached over to touch Junkrat’s ankle, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be fine,” Lúcio told him, giving him a bright smile. “As long as the music’s playing, we’ll _both_ be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat probably felt better in like... five hours. Lúcio's music works wonders.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gossip!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no idea what to do for this but Pyranova helped me out, thankfully.

Lúcio froze. His fingers stilled. His eyes widened. His heartbeat quickened. He hadn’t meant to post that. It was supposed to be a _picture_ , not a video. He sat up in bed, unintentionally jostling Junkrat who was sleeping in his lap. Lúcio’s fingers moved quickly, nervousness and dread creeping up his spine and making him break out into a cold sweat.

Junkrat groaned, wrapping his arm around Lúcio’s thigh and snuggling against it. “Whaddya do that for? I was sleepin’...”

Lúcio didn’t hear him. He was too busy swiping away notifications and shocked comments. Where was the delete button? He’d never had to look for it before. His fingers were trembling, causing him to tap the wrong icons and hindering him from erasing his mistake.

Junkrat looked up at him with bleary eyes. He kissed Lúcio’s thigh in an attempt to get his attention. “Sunshine?”

_Finally_ Lúcio found the delete button. He pressed it quickly and then tapped again to confirm. The screen loaded and he was relieved to see that his mistake was gone from his profile. His breathing slowed, his heart calmed. _That_ was fixed, but he knew that once something was posted on the internet, it was there forever. The video had likely been posted to several websites. People were probably already bargaining with the press, offering the scandalous video for large sums of money. It was only a matter of time before—

“Oi, Heatfrog!”

Lúcio jumped, startled. He looked down at Junkrat with a hand over his heart and shock in his eyes. When had he woken up? “Jamie, _fuck_ , you scared the shit out of me.”

“Guess that makes us even,” Junkrat said, settling back down. “What are ya freakin’ out for?”

Lúcio set his phone down on the nightstand beside him, ignoring the way it continued to vibrate with notifications. He moved his hands to Junkrat’s hair. The constant motion of running his hands through it and the feeling of thick strands of hair along his skin calmed him. “I, uh… accidentally posted one of our videos…”

Junkrat was suddenly wide awake. He sat up and looked at Lúcio with a slightly embarrassed expression. “Which one?” he asked slowly.

Lúcio avoided his gaze, worrying at his bottom lip. “The… one from two nights ago.”

Junkrat opened his mouth and then slowly closed it. He clearly remembered the video. It _had_ become one of their new favorites after all.

The two of them had been fooling around, as they so often did. Hushed voices in the dead of night, gentle touches and soft moans. Gasps and whispers for more. Junkrat’s hands on his hips, his chest, his thighs. Quick kisses that delved into something deeper, more passionate and needy. Sweet nothings, pleading and begging and Lúcio’s phone, which had captured it all.

Junkrat sat up completely, looking at Lúcio with a confused expression. It slowly transitioned into something that seemed like acceptance and then he was smirking. “So, all yer fans got to see us fuckin’?”

Lúcio could do nothing but nod.

Junkrat’s smirk turned cheeky. “Lucky them.”

Lúcio stared at him, flabbergasted. _That’s_ all he had to say? That video was spreading faster than the speed of light, and Junkrat didn’t seem that concerned at all. Lúcio supposed he couldn’t blame him. He wasn’t the celebrity here. He wasn’t the one whose reputation hung on the line. Releasing a sex tape did get you attention, but it wasn’t the kind of attention Lúcio wanted. What if people identified who Junkrat was? What if they came looking for him? What if—?

“Hey,” Junkrat said suddenly, his hand on Lúcio’s cheek. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll blow over.”

Lúcio sighed and leaned into Junkrat’s touch. He felt awful. Why hadn’t he been more careful? Why hadn’t he waited until the morning to update his profile? “I’m sorry, Jamie.”

Junkrat scooted closer and kissed Lúcio’s nose. “Don’t need an apology. Shit happens. ‘M thinkin’ your fans will only love ya more now that they’ve seen that body of yours.”

Lúcio snorted, a smile peeking out from behind Junkrat’s hand. He started to calm down. He took a few deep breaths, kissed Junkrat’s wrist, and closed his eyes. It would blow over. People would move on. It wasn’t that bad. Everything would be—

His phone started to ring on the nightstand, the ringtone sounding more shrill and urgent. Lúcio already knew who it was without having to look at the screen. He turned and picked it up, bringing the phone to his ear. The calm atmosphere was shattered by the sound of his pissed off manager’s voice.

“ _Lúcio_ ,” she said, nearly growling into the phone. “You--”

“I know,” Lúcio interrupted, rubbing a hand over his face. Junkrat gave him a sympathetic look and Lúcio smiled sadly in return. “I screwed up.”

 

* * *

 

They decided a press conference was the best way to deal with everything.

Lúcio would’ve preferred a press _release_ , but his manager encouraged him that answering questions and clearing things up was a better idea. Lúcio didn’t agree with that. He wasn’t sure what kind of questions the media was going to ask, and he was certain that he’d have to refuse to answer some of them.

He fiddled with the bottle of water in his hands, taking deep breaths and trying to stay focused. His manager was out there, standing behind a podium explaining the situation and what had happened. There were so many people in the crowd. Photographers, journalists, writers, paparazzi, fans. Lúcio felt queasy. He took another sip of water and turned up the volume on his music. It was the only thing keeping him calm. A steady beat to focus on and calm his heart. Beautiful notes and harmonies to ease his soul and prepare him for all the questions that he’d have to answer.

There was a tap on his shoulder. He pulled out his left ear plug and turned to see a woman in a grey dress suit motioning for him to go out and speak. Lúcio nodded, putting his phone in his pocket and finishing off his water. He adjusted his shirt, took one last deep breath, and walked out.

The camera flashes immediately annoyed him, but he lifted a hand and waved anyway. A few fans in the back said his name, holding up posters and signs for him to read. His manager beckoned him over to the podium and Lúcio took her place. He adjusted the microphone and cleared his throat.

“Everyone here already knows what happened,” Lúcio said, wanting to get straight to the point. He didn’t want to be here any longer than he had to. “So if you have any questions, I’ll answer them now.”

Everyone’s hands went up. Lúcio wanted to groan but kept a smile on his face. He pointed to a woman in the front with bright red hair and pretty blue eyes. She smiled as she was chosen first and spoke into the microphone she had. “Hello, yes, my question is: who was that man you were sleeping with? You never released a statement saying you were in a relationship!”

Lúcio wanted to roll his eyes but kept his pretty smile in place. He moved forward and grabbed the microphone so everyone could hear him loud and clear. “I’m afraid I can’t answer that question. I—”

“And why not?” The woman interrupted.

Lúcio had to exert all of his self-control to not glare. “Because my boyfriend and I have agreed we’d like to keep his identity private,” he answered.

A man in the back was waving his hand wildly and Lúcio felt compelled to point to him next before he wacked someone in the face. “Hi, yes, hello. Did you make that decision because you’re ashamed of him?”

“No,” Lúcio replied quickly, his smile slipping. “I’m not ashamed of him at all. I love him and we’re happy together. We have reasons for the decision, but I won’t be sharing them.”

A chorus of “Aw’s” sounded in the room. Lúcio felt good about that. His smile moved back into place and he pointed at a shorter man in the middle. “Does this mean you’re gay?”

Lúcio drummed his fingers on the podium. He’d already answered that question _years_ ago, when his first single had come out. “I’m actually bisexual and I’ve answered that before, you may recall.”

A woman in the back of the room was jumping up and down quickly. Lúcio pointed to her next. “There have been comments made that the man in the video is unattractive. What is your opinion on that?”

Lúcio said nothing for a moment, staring at the woman like she was an alien. Unattractive? _Really_? Anger swirled in his stomach, possessiveness and annoyance gripped his heart. Lúcio smiled sweetly, innocently, and cleared his throat. “I think they watched the wrong video,” he replied, pointedly ignoring the look his manager shot him. “My boyfriend is gorgeous. I know that and that’s all that matters.”

More camera flashes went off and more hands were raised. Some people just started talking at him, not even bothering to wait for him to point at someone. Lúcio cleared his throat loudly, getting everyone to quiet down for a moment. “If there are any further questions, my manager will answer them for you. Thank you.”

Without so much as a wave, Lúcio turned and exited, his smile quickly being replaced with an annoyed frown as soon as he was out of sight of the cameras.

 

* * *

 

“Yer not in trouble?”

Lúcio swirled his straw around the boba at the bottom of the cup. He crossed his feet at the ankles and leaned forward on the table, looking over at Junkrat as he poured himself a cup of tea. “Nah. I mean, I kinda am with my manager, but that’s it.”

Junkrat snickered, grabbing a straw from off the counter and putting it in his cup. “Did a good job puttin’ up with all that shit. People are too nosy.”

“They are,” Lúcio agreed, smiling a little. Junkrat had watched the conference on television with Roadhog and D.Va. He didn’t seem upset or bothered by it, but Lúcio wanted to make sure that none of the questions had ticked him off. “Hey, Jamie. Y’know, those comments--”

“Don’t care about the comments,” Junkrat interrupted, turning and leaning against the counter. He flashed Lúcio a wide grin. “Just care about your answer.”

Lúcio smiled brightly at him, slightly embarrassed. He beckoned Junkrat over and he came to stand next to him, his hand playing with a few of Lúcio’s dreads. “You’re gorgeous, Jamie.”

Junkrat snorted, leaning down to kiss Lúcio gently on the forehead. “And you’re sexy,” he replied. “Now all your fans know it, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gr, I don't like the ending but I can't think of what to do instead so I'm just sitting here, unsatisfied and angry.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Universe!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time.

Blood. Hot and thick on his fingers. Metal and copper. Crimson and fatal. A basilisk bite, fangs puncturing skin and ripping into flesh. Discoloration. Poison.

There wasn’t much time.

Lúcio lifted Jamie’s arm over his head and stood quickly. Mako had the attention of the beast for the moment, keeping his distance and beating it down with carefully placed strikes with his fish hook. Each attack drew blood, each one waned at the basilisk's thick scales and resilience.

The poison was serious. Everyone knew that basilisks were dangerous creatures. They could paralyze you with fear and kill you, spew poison at your feet and watch you wither away. Jamie hadn’t known, apparently. He’d rushed in with his usual enthusiasm and recklessness and had a bite in his side to show for his idiocy.

Lúcio helped Jamie over to a recess in the stone, the rocks providing them with darkness and cover from any other potential threats. Lúcio’s coat was stained with blood, his hands covered in thick liquid, but the sounds coming from Jamie spurred him into action. He tore a piece of cloth from his undershirt and held it against the wound, hoping to stop the bleeding. It was poisonous, though. How would he get the poison out?

They didn’t have any elixirs and Lúcio was limited in his knowledge of antidotes. Small things he could cure, spider bites and cruel tricks from plants, but nothing like deadly poison. He cursed under his breath and thought of every song he was ever taught, every melody that he’d ever sang. Surely there was something?

Another pained gasp from Jamie. His expression was twisted in pain, sweat forming on his brow and teeth clenched tight. Lúcio kept one hand on the wound and grabbed his harp with the other. He needed to stop the bleeding. The poison would have to be taken care of later.

The sounds of the fight had changed from frequent swings of metal and growls to heavy breathing and an anguished yowl. At least Mako had given the sorry creature what it deserved. If the poison wasn’t cured in time and Jamie—

Lúcio took a deep breath, cleared his mind. Jamie would be fine. He always was.

“Jamie,” Lúcio said, moving his bloody hand to grab Jamie’s left one. “I need you to hold this over your wound, okay? I have to play something.”

Jamie opened his right eye and tried to grin. “It’s about time ya did somethin’, Strings. Last time I checked, _you’re_ the healer around here.”

“I’m so glad you can still make jokes when you’re on your deathbed,” Lúcio said, rolling his eyes. He removed his hand once Jamie’s replaced it. He readied his harp and focused, tried to remember. Which song was it, exactly? The one for minor cuts and bruises wouldn’t be enough. Something stronger, ancient. A song inscribed in large tomes and written hastily on pieces of parchment.

Lúcio took a deep breath, steadied himself, and began to play.

The strings on his harp were plucked with care, his fingers staining them with blood. Each note was sustained. The music echoed throughout the cave, and when Lúcio’s voice joined with it, magic and healing permeated the world around them. The song was bittersweet, a lover lost to the hands of fate. Music was the only solace she could find. Lúcio was determined for Jamie’s fate to be different.

Pained gasps and whimpers slowly faded away and Jamie removed the torn piece of cloth to reveal his wound. The bite marks from the basilisk disappeared as Lúcio plucked the final notes of the song. All that was left was the poison.

Jamie’s expression turned sickly, winded. His hand fell to the ground and Lúcio tried not to panic. He heard heavy footfalls on the cave floor and Mako was suddenly kneeling beside him. He looked to Jamie, his face covered in sweat and his breathing quick.

“He gonna make it?” Mako asked. His hands were coated in basilisk blood and his own breaths were heavy with exertion. Lúcio’s fingers moved automatically, playing quick notes and singing under his breath, healing any small injuries Mako may have had. Mako thanked him with a nod of his head and Lúcio lowered his harp into his lap.

“He’s poisoned,” Lúcio told him, exhaustion finally catching up with him. They’d been in the cave for hours, fighting monster after monster, creature after creature with only skins and hides to show for it. They needed to turn back. Lúcio wasn’t sure how long Jamie would last.

He turned to Mako, a plan in mind. “You’ll have to carry him. I’ll play something to keep it from spreading, but that’s all I can do. We need to get him to a priest.”

Mako nodded and reached forward to take Jamie in his arms. The two stood and made their way through the damp, dark cave toward the entrance. A sad song accompanied them; Lúcio’s voice much less enthused than it usually was.

 

* * *

 

It was a long road back into Penrith.

Lúcio fingers were already growing numb and he was beginning to think that the blood on them was his own. He’d been playing for an hour straight, his voice growing hoarse. His posture wasn’t correct and the quality of his voice suffered. The magic that was born from the combination of carefully written music and meaningful words was diminishing. He didn’t have the strength or energy to play his best.

Lúcio glanced at Jamie with tired eyes, repeating the words of the song like a chant. His breathing was labored. He frequently shifted in Mako’s arms, uncomfortable and in pain. With a heavy sigh, Lúcio righted himself and stood properly. He ignored the dryness in his throat, the stickiness on his tongue, the weariness in his bones. When Jamie was better, he was going to have more than a few choice words for him.

“Gettin’ sick of this song,” Mako said from beside him.

Lúcio turned to glare at him. He couldn’t even say a witty remark back. If he stopped playing and singing, the poison would spread and Jamie would die before they made it to Penrith. The reckless idiot. Fire mages always thought they were invulnerable, invincible. That was why there weren’t that many of them. If it weren’t for him and Mako watching Jamie’s back, he would’ve died a long time ago.

It raised the question of _why_ Lúcio was still traveling with them. At first, it’d been about the money. It was easier to complete difficult tasks with more muscle and firepower, but after the first job, he’d stuck around instead of moving on. They continued to work together, trying to save up to get a nice place in Carleone, a wealthy city near the coast. Jamie always spoke highly of it, talking about how he’d always wanted to see the ocean.

Lúcio hadn’t seen the ocean either. He’d traveled, but he’d spent most of his childhood in the mountains and forests, studying at the Bard College. Or… what _used_ to be the Bard College.

A wrong note was played and the magic of the song stopped completely. Lúcio quickly moved his fingers to the correct position and started from the top, ignoring the way Mako turned his head to look at him. It was his fault, getting caught up in the past and his failings.

He needed to focus on the present, on the winding road ahead. They were getting closer to Penrith, slowly but surely.

 

* * *

 

They took him to a church near the inn they were staying at.

It was busy. There was some type of ceremony going on, but Mako was able to get the attention of one of the priests to help them. Her name was Angela. She was a human with blue eyes like the sky and pale hair that reminded him of the stars at night. She agreed to help them and led them toward the back of the church, her heels clicking on the stone floor.

The room she led them to was large with several beds inside. There were other patients being treated. Lúcio tried not to look at them as he walked down the center aisle. He kept his eyes forward, on Angela and her blonde hair that seemed dull compared to the bright, sun-kissed locks of Jamie’s.

The last bed toward the back of the room was available and Angela motioned for Mako to lower Jamie onto it. As he did so, Lúcio noticed how pale Jamie had gotten. How he was covered in sweat. How his eyebrows were furrowed and his shoulders hunched. Lúcio hadn’t stopped playing and he’d been muttering the song continually under his breath. He couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. His voice felt too quiet, too soft and not strong enough. It felt exhausted, just like the rest of him.

Angela placed her hands on Jamie’s chest and they began to glow a bright gold. Her eyes were closed in prayer and Lúcio watched with wide eyes as the pain racking Jamie’s body began to subside. He’d heard of the healing power of priests before, those who relied on their faith instead of magic and words. At the college, they’d taught him hymns, words of faith, love and devotion. He learned to play them on the harp and lute, but instead of his hands glowing gold, the strings of his instruments pulsated with magic. He’d open his mouth and the words would combine with the music and inspire, encourage, and motivate.

He couldn’t do what she could. They were from two different worlds.

Angela opened her eyes and stared down at Jamie’s face. His breaths came easier now, more steady and even. Had she removed all of the poison that easily?

Lúcio’s fingers stilled and he finally gave his voice a short break. He moved closer to Jamie’s side, looking at him with concern and exasperation. “Did you…?”

“I haven’t removed all of it yet,” Angela replied, pulling the blanket over Jamie to cover him up. “That of the basilisk bite is gone, but there is something else. Something that I’ve never seen before.”

Lúcio looked up at her quickly, confused and shocked. Something _else_? Jamie had only been bitten by the basilisk. That was the only injury that he’d sustained. “I don’t understand,” Lúcio said slowly, looking to Mako for confirmation. “There shouldn’t _be_ anything else. He was only bitten by a basilisk.”

Mako nodded to agree. He balled his hands into fists at his side. Lúcio knew what he was thinking. Had Jamie been hiding something from them?

Angela stared at the two of them in confusion. “I sense something else. It’s hot and consuming, like fire. It’s spreading slowly, but it is poison.”

Lúcio narrowed his eyes. Hot like fire? Consuming? Jamie had never mentioned anything about that. Why couldn’t Lúcio sense it? Why couldn’t he feel it when he touched Jamie? How had it remained hidden from him for so long? Jamie was always warm. He was able to withstand cold weather with little to no clothing, but Lúcio had thought he’d been casting a spell in order to do so.

Could it have been…?

“What do we need to do?” Lúcio asked, weariness replaced with panic.

Angela looked at him sympathetically and then glanced down to Jamie. “I’m not quite sure. I’ve never heard of or seen anything like this.” She paused, crossing her arms as she thought of a solution. Lúcio waited with baited breath. “I’d suggest asking the scholars down at the college. Perhaps they may have some information.”

It wasn’t the answer Lúcio wanted to hear, but it was better than nothing. Lúcio turned to Mako, worn-out, yet determined. “Mako, please stay here with him. I’m going to go get some answers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is obviously not the first part of this AU. I just wanted to post something with the characters already established and working together because that's the fun part... for me, at least. I left off at a cliffhanger because I'm terrible. I love this AU, but I still have to think of so much stuff. But I love fantasy so much!

**Author's Note:**

> Just stick with me here. I'm so busy this week lmfao.


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